


Asking for Trouble

by godaime_obito



Series: Madatobi Week 2018 [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, MadaTobi Week 2018, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-06-18 14:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godaime_obito/pseuds/godaime_obito
Summary: Madatobi week; July 31st: Fake relationship/hidden relationshipMadara isn't bad at battle strategy, but any other sort of planning from him is... interesting.





	1. a tendency towards bad ideas

They’ve been locked in a closet. Again. If Hashirama is going to harass them about getting along can’t he at least come up with new ways to do it? This is the third time this month he’s locked Tobirama and Madara in a small space together and it’s only the 12th.

“I don’t know why your idiot brother still thinks this will work,” Madara complains. He’s activated his sharingan to look at the seals keeping the door shut. He doesn’t know why Hashirama’s harpy wife is helping him do this beyond deriving some sort of sick amusement from his pain, but her seals are out of his league. “Can you make yourself useful and do something about these?”

“He may be my idiot brother, but he’s your idiot friend, and only one of those titles is compulsory,” Tobirama says. He takes a quick look at the seals, but when it comes to work like this the Uzumaki, especially Mito, are ahead of him. “I couldn’t unlock it the last two times and I can’t now. Clearly, we need to take a more proactive approach,” he suggests.

Tobirama presses himself back into a corner, the closet is barely big enough for both of them to fit, and he’s determined to keep as far away from Madara as he can. It isn’t far enough. The man’s ridiculously large hair is still touching him. Does his hairbrush just sit around unused? On second thought, it would be exactly like Madara to not even own a single brush or comb. Will Hashirama consider them as starting to get along if he buys him one as a gift? It’s likely though that Madara would take offense to it and yell, so probably not.

Madara huffs, whipping his head around to look address Tobirama. The ends of his hair smack him in the face. “What do you mean by ‘proactive’?” he snaps.

“I mean exactly that. We need a plan to convince him we don’t need to be forced to get along,” Tobirama replies, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Right,” Madara says, “How the fuck do we convince him of that? Why does he care so much anyway?”

“Because he’s Hashirama, and I don’t know yet,” Tobirama answers. He would complain about the assumption he’s going to be coming up with any and all plans, but it goes without saying that even one of his worse ideas would be better than anything Madara could come up with. He’s not bad at battle strategy, but any other sort of planning from him is to be circumspect of.

Hashirama has Mito on his side, so any plan will have to either fool her too, or be entertaining enough she won’t tip off her husband. The second option will be easier to pull off than the first. What would Mito find funny that would also convince Hashirama to leave them alone? He can’t expect any good feedback from Madara, but maybe using him as a soundboard will help him come up with something. They could be in the closet for a while, so it’s not like he has anything else to do.

“We just need to get Anija to think we’re getting along, and Mito to be entertained enough not to tell him we’re pulling one over on him,” he explains. “Do _you_ have any ideas?”

Madara pulls a rather amusing series of faces, before settling onto a scowl. Tobirama is 90% certain his hair fluffs even bigger when agitated, like a cat or a bird trying to make itself look bigger, but he is unable to properly test the theory. Maybe someday.

“At this point I’m not just satisfied getting him to go away,” Madara complains, “I want to make it blow back in his face somehow.”

If Tobirama’s honest with himself he rather likes the sound of that himself right now. He’s going to pulling Madara hair out of his mouth and off his clothes all night. He never realized humans could shed like this before, but perhaps it’s because the man never brushes his hair.

 **“** Is it possible to get along too well?” Madara wonders aloud.

“Anija has no concept of getting along too well. The only people he’s ever considered too close are the ones I try to date, but elder brothers will be elder brothers, even Hashirama,” Tobirama complains. This idea is starting to seem like a fool’s errand.

Madara makes a considering hum. His sharingan activates again, and he looks Tobirama over from head to toe, seemingly contemplating something.

“Whatever idea you just had, I assure you it’s awful,” Tobirama says. Madara’s usual planning skills aside, he does not like the look he’s giving him.

“Hear me out,” he starts, “We could _pretend_ to date, just for a week or so-”

“No,” Tobirama states, “Don’t even finish that.”

“Come on,” Madara says, gaining enthusiasm with every moment, “The harpy would think it was hilarious, and it would only take about a week for it to drive Hashirama so mad he’d never want us near each other again.”

The worst part of this is that it’s actually, on a scale of Madara’s plans, one of the best he’s ever had.

“We would have to touch each other outside of sparing,” Tobirama warns.

He’s has lost no eagerness, and in fact starts leaning closer, prompting Tobirama to give his best attempt at partially phasing into the wall away from the man.

“Just imagine his face,” Madara says gleefully.

Tobirama makes the mistake of imaging it. It’s glorious. Well if he’s going to make bad decisions he might as well go all in.

“Let’s start right away. While in this closet we had a great romantic revelation, and we are now sickeningly in love,” he decrees. Madara starts to cackle in response. His sharingan is still active, casting a harsh red glow, making him look like an angry witch. This is going to a beautiful disaster. Mito, at least, will find it hilarious no matter how it turns out.


	2. too late for backing down

The seal keeping Madara and Tobirama in the closet doesn’t let them out until the tower is closed for the day. No one is there to put on a show for, which is mildly disappointing, but that won’t put a stop Operation Beautiful Disaster. Madara grabs his hand with the same aggressive enthusiasm he doe most things as they exit. They walk back to Tobirama’s front door walking ridiculously close together, to a reception of increasingly confused stares from passersby’s.

Tobirama considers really going all in and inviting Madara inside, but not even Hashirama’s over the top misery is worth letting him into his home. He doesn’t need a hothead with fire jutsus anywhere near his copious number of books and research notes.

“See you tomorrow dear,” Tobirama says. He valiantly doesn’t gag or grimace. On the outside.

“I’ll meet you outside the building honey,” Madara replies. If he’s resisting the same urge to gag he doesn’t show it. The gleam in his eyes suggests he’s still too high off the image of Hashirama’s upset face to be put off.

Tobirama shuts the door, and quickly decides to get to sleep early. This is going to be a long week. In fact, if it takes more than a week for Hashirama to crack he’s moving to the Land of Iron where he’ll never have to see him or Madara again. To avoid that he’s going to have to tamper down his reflexive aversion and double down on the façade.

* * *

 

They reenter the building holding hands, just as they exited it the night before. Tobirama’s not smiling, but he’s doing his best content-and-not-scowling face, and Madara _is_ smiling. Although, from his perspective it looks a little too manic to project ‘in love’, but maybe people will just think that’s normal for him… on second thought Tobirama wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“Your desk is near Hashirama’s office,” he whispers, “let’s go there and make sure he sees us before I head back to my desk.”

Madara doesn’t reply, but he squeezes Tobirama’s hand tighter, and heads towards his space with a new sense of determination. When they arrive it’s obvious Hashirama isn’t in his office yet. Unsurprising, as he makes it clear he does his best to be there as little as possible. Looking at Tobirama with a glint in his eye, Madara sits in his chair pulling him down with him.

He lands on Madara’s lap with a soft grunt, and shoots him a quick glare before switching back to his content look. Tobirama rests his hands on his shoulders and leans in, resting his forehead against Madara’s he waits to hear Hashirama come down the hall. Even after being locked in various closets with him, he’s still never been so close to him before.

Tobirama looks into Madara’s eyes for a moment. Although they’ve been at peace for a few years now, he can’t say he’s bothered to break his habit of avoiding Uchihas’ eyes. His eyes are nearly impossibly dark, but glimmering with humor. They’re nice eyes, and rather than think too much on that Tobirama quickly shifts his own eyes to examine the rest of his face. Distressingly enough, he finds that Madara’s entire face is similarly nice. Which deity approved of having such a handsome face matched with a disposition like his?

“Don’t look so sour honey,” Madara says gleefully, “Don’t you like sitting there?”

“I can think of more comfortable chairs dear,” he deadpans.

With an exaggerating pout he replies, “Don’t you like being close to me?”

“Of course. Being near you is worth any discomfort,” he answers with more cheer. Madara’s theatrics are starting to catch. Or perhaps it’s renewed enthusiasm from sensing Hashirama finally getting close.

He gives Madara a conspiratory grin, and just as Hashirama peaks into his office to great him, Tobirama kisses him. Madara presses into it and wastes no time to adjust before deepening the kiss himself. Their tongues slide against one another aggressively as they both try to take the lead.

Hashirama spends nearly a full minute staring, before he lets out a wail that toes the line between disgusted and overjoyed. At the sound they break apart, panting and flushed. This seems like the perfect moment for one of them to say something, but they’re both too dazed to get anything out.

“Wow!” Hashirama shouts, “I can’t believe you’re finally getting along. Even better than I’d hoped at that.”

“We realized we have a lot in common,” Tobirama says, “You were right that we should just give each other a chance.” He punctuates this by sliding his hands around the back of Madara’s neck and shifting to press closer against him.

“Exactly,” Madara says, “and you better not barge in on us the way you do.” With a leer he adds, “You may not like what you see.”

Hashirama doesn’t seem to understand what he just implies, likely because he’s already too busy being overwhelmed by his own emotions. “I can’t wait to tell Mito it worked!” he shouts, and starts back toward the entrance.

“No!” Madara and Tobirama yell in unison.

“You get in your office and do your work,” Tobirama hisses.

“Tell your scary wife when you go home for the day,” Madara adds with equal venom.

“Ah, you two really are so alike,” Hashirama says. He does not seem to mean it as such a good thing this time. He trudges into his office with a reluctant pout, looking back over his shoulder to give them a childish glare before shutting his office door behind him.

Tobirama waits a moment to be sure he isn’t coming back before slipping off Madara’s lap and sitting down on the edge of his desk. A few more minutes together to let more passerby’s see and spread word, and then he needs to go to his own desk. Madara leans toward him and lifts his hands, resting them on his knees.

“You’re a better kisser than I’d guessed,” he says, slowly sliding his hands up Tobirama’s thighs.

He flushes red, half out of embarrassment and half from Madara’s hands getting rather high up. One second thought he should head to his desk now. He doesn’t really want Madara’s hand on his thighs any longer, at least not in public.

“I’ll see you after work dear,” he says quickly. He slips off the desk and heads down the hall towards his own desk.

“I can’t wait,” Madara calls after him, viciously cheery.


	3. an unusually tense dinner

Madara is having the absolute time of his life. He and Tobirama have been indulging in a copious amount of PDA which has done several great things. Firstly; everyone is so freaked out the avoid him more than normal, leaving him in peace. Secondly; Hashirama keeps wildly fluctuating between euphoric and furious at a hilarious rate. Thirdly; Izuna is so confused that it’s almost as funny as Hashirama. Fourthly; Tobirama is a fantastic kisser and he gets to make out with him a lot. It’s been nearly a week and his only complaint is that it can’t last forever and he still has no excuse for why he and Tobirama should have sex other than ‘I want to have sex with you.’

This may be surprising to some, as Madara seemed just as annoyed by Tobirama as Tobirama was by him. However, Madara is, in spite of everything, 300% more in touch with his feelings than him. He figured out he genuinely liked Tobirama two days in to their farce. There’s actually a lot to like: his fierce personality, his intelligence, the way his hair shimmers in the right light, the way he looks when he goes swimming, his little smile when he thinks of his students, the way he yells at village elders…

What was Madara supposed to be doing again? He got distracted for a moment. Oh, yeah: he’s having the time of his life and he’s going to Hashirama’s tonight. More specifically, _Mito_ invited Tobirama and him over for dinner, while Hashirama made hilarious teary expressions in the background. The only downside is that Touka will be there and Madara is certain she’s suspicious of the relationship. They’ll have to be careful.

Madara stops by Tobirama’s house to pick him up for the dinner at six. He knocks firmly and then steps back. Just as he expected the door swings open into the space he was just occupying at a rapid pace. One of the little things he’s noticed that last week is that Tobirama’s very aggressive about opening his door, perhaps in an attempt to discourage unwanted visitors.

“Are you ready?” Madara asks, offering his hand.

“Of course,” he replies, accepting the hand and twinning their fingers. He hums contently when Madara leans in to kiss his cheek. It may partially be that Tobirama’s gotten used to acting, but Madara’s certain it is also at least partially because he’s come to like him. Their walk is accompanied by the usual bewildered stares. He hopes those never go away with time.

Mito ushers them in with a knowing smile and directs them to the kotatsu. Touka and Hashirama are both already sitting. The two of them sit and Madara makes an effort to meet Touka’s narrowed eyes before kissing Tobirama right on the mouth. Extra tongue. She makes an exaggerated retching noise and looks at the wall while Hashirama lets off a small whimper.

The food is passed around as Mito seats herself next to her husband. “It’s lovely to see you two getting along. We always knew you had similar priorities underneath it all,” she says demurely. There’s something sharp and teasing in her eyes. Hashirama whimpers again.

“I spent so much time insisting that couldn’t possibly be that it’s still a bit embarrassing to admit you were both right,” Tobirama offers in reply.

“I can barely remember not liking him,” Madara adds. He looks at Hashirama with false nonchalance. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Hashirama looks up at him mournfully from where he’s slouchy dramatically into his food. “Have you ever thought ‘I sure would love ice cream’ so you get a gallon and you eat the whole thing at once and then afterwards you think ‘God, I ate way too much ice cream I never want ice cream again’?” he asks, volume increasing with every word.

“No?” Madara replies.

“Oh,” Hashirama says, “well, I’ve been having that feeling of having had too much of something I thought I liked, except I haven’t eaten _any_ ice cream.” Tobirama snorts and gives a chuckle under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” he offers.

“I wonder what could be causing that feeling,” Tobirama adds.

“I’m sure he’ll feel better soon,” Mito says, “How have you been Touka?”

“Great!” she says, smile far too sharp, “I’ve been sharping my naginata. Just in case I need for something: a mission, diplomatic intimidation, family issues, _a relative mysteriously ends a seemingly perfect relationship._ You know, normal problems.” Madara gulps.

“That’s lovely Touka,” she replies, “but I’m sure you won’t need it for anything like that last one.” She appears to communicate something to Touka with her eyes. Madara has a feeling he’s not refined enough, or something similar, to understand what she’s conveying. Either way, it goes over his head, although it does seem to calm Touka down.

“How have you been Mito?” Tobirama inquires, rather eager to change the topic.

“Fantastic. There’s been a bit great entertainment this week,” she answers, “it’s a shame Hashirama doesn’t seem to be enjoying it too.”

“Well, Anija does have a deplorable sense of humor,” he says with a smirk.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a hum of agreement.

The rest of the dinner passes in a surprisingly relaxed atmosphere. All that awkward talk at the start must have cleared the air. Madara keeps a hand on Tobirama’s thigh the entire time, both because he refuses to be intimated by Touka and because he wants to. He likes Tobirama’s thighs. They’re big and muscular and would most likely be fantastic wrapped around Madara’s waist. _Some day._

They exchange slightly tense goodbyes once the dishes are washed and part ways at the front door. Touka’s house is thankfully the opposite direction of Tobirama’s. The streets are largely abandoned as they walk. They still hold hands.

“Ice cream,” Madara deadpans, when they come to a stop at Tobirama’s door.

“I wish I could say that wasn’t a true story,” he says with a sigh, “but he really did eat a gallon of ice cream in one sitting before.”

“I can’t believe that’s my best friend.”

“I’m _related_ to him,” Tobirama says with bafflement. It goes silent.

“Mito and Touka are scary,” Madara adds after a moment.

“Yeah. I admire them both, but wish they would give me a break now and then,” he replies. Madara just nods understandingly. The street is completely empty, no one in sight. He rests a hand on Tobirama’s hip and leans in to kiss him. It’s perhaps a bit involved for a goodnight kiss.

“Goodnight darling,” he says, “see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Madara,” Tobirama replies. He slips in his front door, quietly shutting it behind him, as Madara walks toward the Uchiha compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't originally going to be smut, but Madara really wants there to be smut.


	4. the final stretch

The two of them have been acting as gooey as possible the last week, but that’s been fit in with their regular schedules. They haven’t made time for any special excursions with their busy schedules. Paperwork never rests. Today they finally have a break at the same time and they plan to use it put on a good show. That is to say: they’re going on a proper date. Madara is treating Tobirama to his favorite restaurant for a late lunch and then they’re going on a nice public stroll through the busiest park right down a lane of Japanese Wisteria trees grown by Hashirama.

Tobirama must admit he’s been looking forward to it since they first scheduled it. Madara isn’t as bad as he thought. He’s just… _passionate_ , yes, passionate is the word. It’s actually endearing. He slams the door open when he hears Madara knock. He’s eternally grateful he managed to pass his eager door slamming as a normal behavior of his and not the result of the nervous energy he develops whenever he realizes Madara is at his door.

He decides to skip the greetings and get straight to the kiss. Madara barely has time to kiss back before he pulls away. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Someone’s excited for our date,” Madara teases.

“I’m hungry,” he insists. “Maybe a little excited,” he admits under his breath. He certainly doesn’t blush.

Madara grins at him, less maniac than at the start of the relationship, and leads him down the street. They walk hand in hand in comfortable silence the way they’ve fallen into over the last week. The stares they attractive have started shifting from the bewildered looks back to the usual curiosity high profile figures like them attract.

They settle in to the restaurant without fanfare. Madara insists on ordering for both of them. Normally Tobirama would be frustrated by not being able to choose for himself, but he’s gotten a feel for what he likes during all the meals they’ve shared this week. Besides, he’s curious to see what Madara picks out for him.

It turns out he’s ordered them a sushi platter, which is in fact, _fantastic._ Of course, it would have been more fantastic if they hadn’t been interrupted.

“Tobi!” Hashirama shouts, sitting right next to Tobirama at the table, “How unexpected! What are you doing here?” He just glares at him in response. He refuses to dignify that with an answer.

“Unexpected!” Madara says incredulously. “I watched you walk in the door and head straight here. You are following us,” he hisses. He’s beginning to resemble an angry cat, as he tends to when upset. Tobirama finds it oddly charming.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hashirama whines. Tobirama attempts to somehow glare with even more vitriol. “Okay, okay,” he says, “I followed you. I’m just… worried. Are you two serious about this? _Super_ serious? I can’t give both of you the shovel talk, it’s left me horrible torn.”

“Yes, we are serious,” Tobirama says.

“I’m even more serious than him,” Madara asserts, “and he’s always serious.”

“We know what we’re doing,” Tobirama adds.

“Well…” Hashirama sighs. “Then I’ll do my best to be happy for you both!” he cheers, “I’ll see you later!” He flounces out before either of them can think of a response.

“What the fuck was that?” Madara questions bewilderedly.

“I don’t know.” It sounds like the fin may be over or at least that Hashirama’s decided to go into denial. Their plan may have only had a week’s lifespan, but it was a great week.

They finish their sushi in a strangely tense atmosphere. If the joke is over should they break up? Just cut off the ‘relationship’ without faking a breakup? Tobirama was really looking forward to the park and was hoping they’d get tea together. Maybe they should go a bit longer, just so it’s not obvious they were just messing with Hashirama.

“Do you want to come over for tea after this?” Tobirama asks after they reach the park pathway. Hashirama delayed them a bit and it’s already four.

Madara stops walking, causing them both to come to a halt underneath the hanging wisteria branches. “At your house? You want to…continue? This?” he stutters out. He seems to be attempting to be subtle, but he really can’t help his natural tendency towards shouting.

“I don’t think it’s right to just… stop here,” he offers. They’re still holding hands. He unconsciously rubs Madara’s hand with his thumb.

“Right,” Madara says and starts moving again.

Pushing off the thought of a potential breakup they continue their stroll. The purple flowers are in full bloom and the park is breathtaking. They both come to unspoken agreement that it would be nice to stay to see the sunset through the trees and end up passing time laying in a patch of grass together. Tobirama rests his head on Madara’s chest as they lay. He tries to keep the conversation casual. He considers himself successful as he only brings up official village business twice.

It’s nice to just lie together and the sunset really is lovely. It bathes the purples of the trees in warm shades, lights them up with reds and oranges. Madara’s hand is carding softly through his hair. He doesn’t particularly want to move, even after the sun has completely set.

“Come on,” Madara says, “We should go have tea before it gets too late.” He shifts so that they’re sitting up, carefully adjusting where Tobirama rests against him.

“I suppose,” he replies. He lets out a small yawn as he stretches out his back. Madara is looking at him with a strange expression and his face is turning pink. “What is it?” Tobirama asks.

“Nothing,” Madara says quickly.

Tobirama swears he can hear him say cute under his breath. He narrows his eyes at him. “Let’s go then,” he says and grabs Madara’s hand pulling him into a brisk walk. They arrive at Tobirama’s home quickly. Someone is standing at his door.

“Hello boys,” Mito calls from his porch, “Don’t mind me. I just wanted to give Tobirama a message.”

“Of course,” he replies, “go on in and give us a moment Madara.”

Mito waits until the door is firmly shut and Madara’s footsteps have mostly faded to speak. “I spoke with my husband not too long ago. It looks like the game is over,” she says.

“Yes,” he replies brusquely.

“Yet here you two are,” she drawls, “ _together_.”

“What are you getting at?” Tobirama questions. He’s not here to play mind games.

“Just that you should reflect some on the last week,” she answers, “and consider that the one you’ve really been fooling is yourself.” She straightens up and steps down from the porch regally. “I hope you both make it to the next family dinner,” she says. Mito disappears down the street in the direction of her home without waiting for any form of response.

What did she mean? Fooling himself? He steps inside. Madara is sitting on the couch. He’s already prepared the tea. It’s steaming on the coffee table. Tobirama takes a seat right next to him. He looks at Madara intently. Does Mito think he has feelings for him? He doesn’t. Tobirama just appreciates his company. Who wouldn’t? Madara is vibrant and intelligent when he isn’t yelling the first thing that comes to mind. He has a sharp sense of humor, nice muscles, a beautifully sculpted face, and is admirably devoted to his family.

Wait. He does have feelings for Madara. Why didn’t Mito tell him sooner? She thought it was funny, didn’t she? Tobirama gulps his tea silently.

Madara’s eyebrows scrunch together as he observes him. “Is something bothering you?” he asks.

“It’s just…” Tobirama sighs and gathers his determination, “I’ve enjoyed this last week and today as well. The sushi was wonderful and the park was nice.”

“Me too,” Madara says. He fixes an expectant gaze on Tobirama, waiting for him to speak again.

“I don’t think we should just stop at any point,” he continues, “or I suppose I think we should start. Dating that is. We already are mostly dating for real, aren’t we?” This has to be one of the most awkward conversations he’s ever had.

“Oh, thank god,” Madara says, tension visibly leaving him. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Does this mean we can do couple things in private?”

“I suppose?”

“Excellent. It appears we are in private right now,” he says gleefully. He slides his hand over Tobirama’s thigh, and crushes their lips together. He gasps in surprise and Madara wastes no time pushing forward with his tongue. Their tongues massage together and Tobirama realizes all at once that he’s been wanting this. He wouldn’t admit it to himself before, when it was all fake, but now there’s no reason to wait.

He slides into Madara’s lap without breaking the kiss, and winds his arms around his neck. There’s a heat beginning to build in him and his head is spinning. It’s only partly from the oxygen he’s forgotten to breath in favor of licking at Madara’s lower lip. Tobirama feels hands at his waist and suddenly he’s flipped onto his back. Madara breaks the kiss, leaving them both panting, and begins to pull at his pants. He returns the favor and quickly undoes Madara’s own pants.

“Lube?” Madara questions gruffly.

“All the way in my nightstand,” Tobirama says. He really hadn’t thought he’d be needing it.

With a put-upon huff Madara lifts him up, encouraging him to wrap his legs around his waist. Then he moves them to the bedroom. He is impressed by Madara’s ability to not walk into things while also biting and liking at Tobirama’s neck. When he grabs the lube Tobirama takes the chance to remove his shirt and underwear, tossing them to the ground. He’ll have to retrieve their pants from the living room later.

“Give me the lube,” he demands, breathing heavily. He doesn’t want to wait while Madara finishes stripping. When the bottle is tossed his way, he squeezes plenty into his hand and drops it off the side of the bed. Leaning back as Madara struggles with the tie of his kimono shirt, arousal apparently turning it into a struggle, he reaches between his legs.

Madara lets out a heated moan when he finishes stripping and looks back down at Tobirama. He has one lubed finger in his hole and is starting to add in a second. Madara decides he’d rather not interrupt him fingering himself. Instead he leans over where Tobirama is working himself open and presses open mouthed kisses along his flushed chest and then down his abs. He doesn’t stop until he feels the shift of Tobirama adding in a third finger.

Tobirama presses his fingers in deeper and searches for his prostate. He brushes against it with a shudder and a moan. His flush has spread to his entire body now and Madara must have been getting the lube again because can see his slicked-up cock sliding next to his own as he leans forward to kiss him.

They swirl their tongues together as Tobirama removes his fingers. He reaches for his aching neglected cock instead. Madara breaks the kiss and Tobirama groans as the head of Madara’s cock presses against his stretched hole. He wraps his thighs around Madara’s waist as he strokes himself. Madara bottoms out in him, and he’s _so_ hot and his head is so fuzzy he can barely think. Tobirama’s back arches as his prostate is hit and Madara picks up the pace at the sound of his cry.

He strokes himself in time with Madara’s harsh thrusting. His legs compulsively tighten around his lover as the go on. He shakily moans and arches with every thrust. He losses all sense of time as fire builds in his abdomen and his blood seems to turn to magma in his veins. Tobirama moans out Madara’s name and cums with shudder. He clenches around his lover’s cock and overwhelmed by the sight and feel of him, Madara climaxes in him.

Madara pulls out lying next to him as the both pant. “I have one request,” he says.

“What?” Tobirama says. He’s thoroughly worn out and can’t imagine what he wants to say now.

“If you ever want to end this, don’t break up with me,” he says, “just crush my head with your thighs.”

“Seriously?”

“This is important to me,” Madara says solemnly, “I want you to promise.”

“Fine,” Tobirama says indulgently, “I promise I will kill you with my thighs if I ever get tired of you.” Reassured Madara rolls over to embrace him and they’re tired and content enough to fall asleep still sticky.


End file.
